


edges

by basqueinthesun



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basqueinthesun/pseuds/basqueinthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wanted to take his hand, blunt the strangeness of everything except him in someway, but suddenly even the couple inches between them felt too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	edges

Summer in southern California was hot but not sticky, and Johanssen felt comfortable in her light cotton tank top and knit shorts as the sun beat down. Her legs moved in the sand, trying to find that cool spot, savoring the way the roughness felt against the soles of her feet.

Growing up close to the water had accustomed her to the comforting feeling of cool ocean breeze brushing against her face. She'd never particularly been a beach person (she loved the water), but lying on the beach with nothing to do had never interested her. She liked to solve problems, move forward, whether it be with work or with herself. 

Going to a place without water nearby had always made her a little uncomfortable--claustrophobic even. That's why it still surprised her she'd ever even made it up into the Hermes. Hermes was as close to living in a box as she would ever get. But then again, she had gone on the Ares III mission to serve a higher intellectual calling. Sure, she might hate the box she would live inside of, but at least she had the vastness of space all around her (it didn't terrify her as much as it exhilarated her).

Maybe she was a litany of contradictions. But wasn't everybody? 

On their return trip she and Beck had stayed up many nights, quietly talking about all the things they missed and the places they'd go when they got back to Earth. 

Her ear pressed against his chest, she heard his heart beating, felt his chest move and vibrate as he had asked, "Where do you want to go first?"

She had known the answer without even thinking. "The ocean."

She had wanted to feel the cool air ruffling her hair, to taste the salt on her lips. To her the image was perfect. Nothing was better than being there again. No box to be inside of. No walls to keep her in. 

He'd simply nodded and said, "Okay. That's where we'll go."

Their idea (maybe naively) was to go to the beach and finally have some time alone together. Just them. Wake up at noon (even if Beck wasn't very good at sleeping in) and just be without the constant state of vigilance required while flying on a ship long in need of service. Even once Lewis had given them her blessing, it wasn't as thought they were ever really alone. The ship was just too small and there was too much to do. So the two of them had perfected this ideal getaway in their imaginations for after they got back to Earth. Somewhere they could get to know each other in a different way, in a different environment. A place where a box wouldn't hold them together. Where spaces weren't defined by walls and windows separating life from death, but rather by the distance it took to walk hand in hand from the kitchen to the deck, watching the sunset.

But it hadn't played out that way right away. Because they hadn't gone anywhere immediately. First they'd had to stay at JSC, going through post-mission debriefings, check-ups, interviews, the whole shebang.

When they'd been pulled off the shuttle by a team of doctors after landing, the first thing she's noticed (besides feeling like the sun was blinding her) was an overwhelming sense of disorientation. There weren't corners and hallways to define the space around her anymore. She felt the strange openness around in almost clear contradiction to her life on Hermes. It was all open. Too open. She felt like she might float away if it hadn't been for the heaviness she felt in her legs.

Supported by two doctors, she'd been helped into a golf cart to be taken back to the space center to undergo complete medical check ups. 

They'd moved across the tarmac and she felt unraveled. She looked back to see Beck being helped out and she felt stupid for feeling that he was too far away now, that this wasn't right. 

She'd been taken into a sterile room (post-mission pseudo-quarantine was important, after so long in space without new bacteria and viruses around their immune systems were weak). The walls were white, the bed was white, the doctors were covered in white. Beck had been her doctor for so long now it was confusing to have others touching her arm, taking blood, checking blood pressure. If she hadn't been so tired she might have protested (protested what she didn't know). All she knew was that for that moment, it was better to be back in a room. Where she felt like there were boundaries to her reality. That she couldn't get lost in the vastness of Earth's gravity.

Neither had gone home in any real sense after they were finally allowed to leave (only to return one month later for renewed check ups.) Their families had practically lived in Houston for the nearly two months they'd spent there after their return. Then it had been time for them to move on. Johanssen had been a little apprehensive about what this really meant, but Beck had made it easy for both of them.

"Space has made me really dependent," Beck had told her, levity evident in his voice, which only somehow outlined his sincerity more. "I'm not sure being three thousand miles from you is going to work for me."

He said it so matter-of-factly that Johanssen had had to blush. It never got old. Every time he said something stupid and sappy like that she just couldn't help but smile to herself. She'd never been like that before. But what was the point of thinking about before. He hadn't been hers before.

Feeling slightly guilty about leaving their parents behind after so short a time, they'd gotten on a plane to Santa Barbara and driven straight to a house on the beach. They'd decided they would stay until they both had to get back to NASA for more medical checks and Johanssen was scheduled to return to work. Beck didn't have any plans. He had many offers, including one from his alma mater and some from other leading universities in the country (and world). State of the art lab space, ridiculous salary, all of it was up for grabs. Everyone wanted one of the heroes of the Ares III mission to work for them. 

But he was just content to move with Johanssen for the moment.

In their minds everything should've been perfect for the next month. A house to themselves, endless beach, clear blue waves, and even some mountains nearby for Beck (he had promised he'd turn Johanssen into a mountain climber before their vacation was over).

And it was perfect. For a moment. 

Johanssen felt strangely shy with Beck again. Somehow everything was different when they weren't closed in on a small ship, working tirelessly. The crashing waves were deafening in contrast to the never ending silence of space. Even their time on Earth together (when she was still confused by what his closeness did to her) had been structured, scheduled. Now time was a fabric they could stretch and bend and Johanssen found herself being almost afraid of that kind of control. He didn't have to be with her anymore. There were no more rules. 

She'd slept every night for more than a year next to him, his body pressed against her, holding her in a cocoon of warmth. But for all the "Million Mile High Club" jokes, the intimacy of their relationship had never gone beyond hands and mouths as much as both of them had ached, physically pained, for more. (Embarrassingly, Beck had had to confirm this with Lewis at one point. She didn't want any possibility of pregnancy on board the Hermes.)

Their last night on the ship though it had been full of trepidation, had also held an electric undercurrent of excitement. That night when she had kissed Beck his eyes had shone with a ferocity that made her shiver. She'd burrowed into his side, hiding her face, thrill coursing through her. He could finally be hers after today. Completely and totally (as if he weren't already).

In the heaviness of Earth's gravity the first time he'd kissed her, her hands in his hair, his palm sliding from her stomach to the small of her back, gently placing her on the bed, she'd felt like it was new. Not him. Not her. But his weight on her in this gravity, their place together on this bed, edges of a room around them that she couldn't reach out and touch. No need to be quiet as he _(finally)_ moved inside her. His name could fall from her lips without the thought that someone might hear. 

Their life together so far had occurred within the confines of her quarters on Hermes. (And, in some small moments, in Beck's lab. When she was sure everyone else was busy and she could sneak in and steal kiss from him when the days seemed too long to go without him for a moment longer). 

It was different now. 

Now she sat, wondering why the same openness she had once thrived upon felt too large now. She felt so small and everything around her seemed to big. And Beck? She constantly felt too far from him. Like she had to jump across some void to get to him. Even in the house they had rented for their mini-vacation seemed too big and she felt lost. The rooms weren't sterile white (she'd hated that at first on the Hermes. Now she didn't know what to do without it).

She sighed. 

As much as she had loved it, this view, this position, this place, had changed. Not in any fundamental, physical way, but it had changed. For her anyway. 

The openness felt empty, and the cool air which had only ever renewed her her before, felt cold.

She heard the sound of soft footsteps in the sand behind her. She turned her head and squinted up to see Beck standing there with two tall glasses in his hands. He handed one to her (oreo milkshake--her favorite) before sitting down next to her.

They were both silent for a moment before Beck nudged her softly.

Johanssen nudged him back, "What?"

"What's up?"

She shrugged. 

There was silence again for a moment. 

"Is everything okay?"

Johanssen looked down tracing a pattern in the sand.

"It's just--," Beck started, "You feel--. You feel--off."

Johanssen nodded. He wasn't wrong. She didn't know what to say to him, how to explain how she felt disconnected and too far away from everything. 

"Things are different now," she said, and frowned. _Wow, Beth, so perceptive,_ she thought sarcastically.

"Different, bad?" Beck asked. His face was carefully arranged to look neutral but she knew him too well now. She knew there was concern hidden there somewhere.

"Maybe," she paused. She didn't know what else to say, the words were stuck. (Not that she even knew what words they'd be).

She wanted to take his hand, blunt the strangeness of everything except him in someway, but suddenly even the couple inches between them felt too far. 

"Like there's too much time?" Beck said.

She looked up at him, surprised, a question in her eyes.

Beck shrugged. "I think three years in space was tougher on us than we'd first thought."

Johanssen almost laughed from relief and the pure joy that he understood. _Of course,_ he understood. He had been there with her. But beyond that, he'd always understood. Since the beginning. 

There was a moment before she answered, "I thought it was all just NASA psychologist bullshit. Maybe not." 

He nodded in agreement. 

Somehow simply naming that everything felt strange was enough. They didn't need to say what it was exactly (she wasn't even sure she really knew). She felt lighter (but still so weighed down in this gravity).

She rested her chin on his shoulder, the distance between them closing easily now. The world looked different from this perspective. Better somehow when her senses were full of him and he was real next to her. 

She sighed. Feeling slightly better than she had been since getting back to Earth. She turned her attention to what Beck was holding.

"What is that?" Johanssen asked, trying to change the mood. They'd spent so long held in that she didn't want to waste more time thinking about the strangeness of being back. Home. Her time with him so far had been so straight-edged, so rigid. She wanted to luxuriate in this new freedom (and the strangeness of it). 

"Kale and strawberry smoothie."

Johanssen wrinkled her nose. "You're one of those people?"

"I'm a doctor! I can't help it. Just because I have to watch you drink Red Bull doesn't mean I'm gonna do it," Beck retorted, taking a sip from his smoothie. "And, it's really good. For your information."

They both knew the gentle teasing was the kind of show you put on for each other when trying to ease a situation, when concrete words are needed to shift attention, when you act as though everything is perfect so eventually you won't be fooling yourself anymore and it actually _is_ perfect. 

Johanssen smiled softly before exhaling, "Okay."

Maybe it wasn't the space around her that mattered anymore. Her world had changed in a way she'd never thought possible. Space wasn't defined by the emptiness around her or the close edges of the walls and corners of rooms. Now it was how she tucked her head under his chin like she was a missing piece of his body, how his hand fit into the small of her back, how she measured the distance from his eyes to her lips.

This disorientation, this disconnect would linger. But as long as they could anchor each other back to Earth, to this shifted reality, they'd be fine. She knew that now. They'd learn themselves (and each other) again. 

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her chin on his shoulder before resting her head on him. 

"For what?" he asked.

She shrugged. 

"The milkshake."

(They both knew she wasn't talking about the milkshake.)

**Author's Note:**

> Watney said Beck liked to give health lectures. Which basically makes Beck my fav. 
> 
> Yeah I don't know what this is. But I've had in my drafts for like two months so I just needed to post it and be done with it. Would love to hear what y'all think.


End file.
